Pre-Game
by Petunias
Summary: For three days they drove across the country in Scout's little station wagon on a quest to experience one of America's greatest traditions: college football. What Sniper didn't expect was a story about Scout's past.


"Oi'll hand it to ya kid when you said tailgatin' party, Oi wasn't expectin' this." Sniper looked headlong at what he could only describe as an army of inebriated youths scattered across a battlefield of garnet and gold tents. Charcoal smoke billowed from the assortment of grills dotting the pre-gaming field. From tiny propane guzzlers to the Big Daddy Smokers the savory scents of game-day barbeque assaulted his nostrils, but did little to cover the tangy aroma of the joint he was enjoying. He felt like a twitchy teenager smoking for the first time, but Scout assured him Security wouldn't patrol far from the Stadium. To be fair, he'd felt out of sorts the second he and Scout were off base. For the past three days they drove across the country in Scout's little station wagon on a quest to experience one of America's greatest traditions: college football.

The whole ordeal was peculiar. A month prior, Miss Pauling notified the REDs that they'd have vacation time while the Respawn system was being updated. Some were delighted while others, including Sniper, grumbled at the prospects of going home for a couple of weeks.

"Are you sure you don't have other plans sweetheart? It's quite a ways to travel," his mother questioned him on the other end of the line.

"Yes mum, Oi'm sure," he sighed. The conversation was going smoother than previous calls. It didn't end with him slamming the phone back into the receiver, but he still sulked as he did with any phone call to his parents. In truth, he really wanted to have other plans. He assumed it was guilt that made him go back home; like a masochistic moth that had been burnt more than once by the same flame he thought, _maybe this time will be different_.

"C'mon Keith. Don't bail on me buddy." Sniper heard scout's desperate voice a few payphones down. "This is the last chance at seeing a game with ya before you graduate. It'll be like old times." He looked betrayed as he cradled the phone to his ear, hanging onto some shred of hope in his friend's words. But it disappeared with a furrow of his brows.

"Yeah whateva. Go play mista hotshot with ya fiancée," he growled through gritted teeth before slamming the phone back into the cradle. He let out a frustrated groan before turning on his heel to see Sniper. His snarl quickly changed into flushed irritation.

"You eavesdrop on everyone's conversations?" he muttered accusingly.

"You treat all your mates that way?" Sniper replied, arms akimbo. Scout responded with a kick to the ground and crossed his arms as well. "Wot's got ya riled up so bad?" The look on Scout's face made it apparent he didn't want to talk, but he sighed and reluctantly plopped down onto a nearby couch.

"I bought tickets ta this football game thinkin' my friend would come with me, but he's gotta girl now and they're in the middle of plannin' their wedding." Scout ran his tongue over his teeth as if in deep thought.

"I thought you were a baseball fan," Sniper mumbled inquisitively, eliciting an annoyed look from his companion.

"A guy can be into more than one sport, dumbass." Sniper put his hands up defensively. "Whatta 'bout you? You goin' back ta Australia?"

"S'ppose I am," he said with what little conviction he could muster. As the days crept closer to the start of his vacation time, the more he dreaded the thought of home. "So, tell me more about this football match." He couldn't help his slight curiosity as a means of escaping his thoughts. Scout looked in his direction with a cocked eyebrow.

"First off, it's a _game_ not a match. This ain't pansy European football we're talkin' about." Sniper simply rolled his eyes. "Second, It's a _huge_ college rivalry; Seminoles v. Hurricanes. An' the best part is it's at home!" Scout was almost out of his seat, gripping the edges of the couch in excitement. "I haven't seen Tallahassee in three years, man! _Three years_." Sniper was taken aback by Scout's sudden change in mood. The way he was talking about this game made it sound like some holy pilgrimage.

"You didn't think to ask anyone else if your friend fell through?"

Scout shifted on the couch and averted his glance. "Nah. Keith was the only friend I had back then. No one else except Soldier would be interested, and like hell if I ask Sol." His voice trailed off. A few seconds of awkward silence passed between them, both unwilling to say what was on their mind. Scout was the one to finally break the tension.

"You eva' been to a game before?"

From there it didn't take long for Scout to convince Sniper to join him. Reluctance abounded at first, with Sniper using his parents as an excuse, but after a few pleads and begs he gave into the boy. Hell it was his vacation too, he told himself, no reason he shouldn't have some fun and relaxation. In hindsight he should've insisted on taking his van rather than endure three days of cramped unnatural leg positions. For that matter he should have also brought a pair of earplugs. He had no idea the boy would incessantly run his mouth off about football statistics, famous Florida State athletes and the local haunts he frequented. The only bit of conversation he remembered (to his surprise) was learning that Jim Morrison attended the university.

On the third day of driving he was relieved to hear Scout say they were thirty minutes from the city limits. He looked beyond the passenger window to the rows of pines and occasional farmland. His brows wrinkled in confusion.

"Where are the beaches and palm trees?" From what he could see they were in the middle of the Deep South. The few towns they passed didn't at all resemble the sun n' surf postcard photos he'd seen of Miami or the Keys. Scout replied with a loud snort.

"Yeah! That's everyone's reaction." Not long after, the sight of the Capitol building breeched the horizon, welcoming them into Tallahassee.

Sniper's thoughts came back to the present as he leaned on the back of Scout's station wagon, listening to the cacophony of yells, screeches, hoots and hollers thrown back and forth from one elated student to the next. In the distance the Marching Chiefs could be heard practicing their half-time routine, eliciting cheers of approval from the crowd. He couldn't help but give a small smile. This environment buzzed. It was electric. And pride filled the air. "Is every game loike this?" Sniper looked to his right but his friend was gone. He frantically searched the heads of the crowd but didn't need to look for long.

His companion proudly fashioned Soldier's "borrowed" Chieftain's Challenge and red war paint on his cheeks. Holding a can of beer in each hand and one gripped by his teeth, he stood on a table surrounded by a dozen boozed up frat boys chanting encouragements at him. They cheered him on as he chugged the beer balanced over his mouth followed by guzzling the two he held. He finished his last gulp with a smack of the lips. "Oh yeah! F-L-O-R-I-D-A S-T-A-T-E!" The crowd responded to him with a bellow of 'Florida State! Florida State! Florida State!'

"WOO!" He cried.

"Oi!"

Scout turned his head to look in the direction of the Aussie. He pushed his aviators up the bridge of his nose and gave the boy a stern look. Scout responded with a nervous chuckle and went back to his group.

"It's been great fellas. I'll see ya in the stadium." As he hopped down from the table, he gave a final wave to his audience. He turned back to Sniper with annoyance. "Hey, I'm tryin' to have a little fun here."

"If that means getting roight pissed in a matter of minutes, I'm not havin' it. Oi ain't your babysitter."

"C'mon! I can hold my liquor," Scout exclaimed with a small slur and a cocky grin.

"Just tone it down a bit, would'ya?"

"Look who's talkin'." He pointed in the direction of Sniper's joint. Before he could hide it at his side, Scout's hand was gesturing for the spliff. He took a large hit before seating himself in the bed of the car. The back was quite spacious once transformed into a makeshift living compartment. Scout furnished the small space with everything he saw fit for the perfect road trip from shag rugs to his small turntable. He even adorned his rear view mirror with a Seminole air freshener to boast his school spirit.

Sniper gave the kid another look-over, noticing his dopey smile and relaxed demeanor. It was strange. For Scout, that is. Usually he was so aggressive, so in-your-face. But the minute they hit the road something changed in him. Sniper knew it was there but couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Y'know you still haven't told me why you moved here in the first place." Scout dug for a new beer in their cooler popped the top with a hiss. He contemplated the remark, eyes fixed on the ground.

"I followed a girl here." Sniper was mid drag before coughing and gasping uncontrollably for air. He shot him a look of incredulity, which Scout returned with an expression of annoyance. "Hey, I'm great with the ladies."

"Sure ya are," Sniper wheezed. Scout just ignored him and continued with his story.

"This chick. She was great. We had been goin' steady for a couple months and outta the blue she asks if I wanna move ta Florida with her. Says she got a scholarship to Florida State. So I's say 'yeah! Why not?' thinkin' we'd be livin' right on the beach an' shit. Guess how surprised I was when we stopped here." He scanned the surrounding campus with eyes that screamed nostalgia and better memories.

"But it turned out alright. Hell, I even got into the university—what's so damn funny?" he quickly turned on Sniper who was in hysterics.

"Oh, It's nothin' mate. Just tryin' to imagine you as a college boy. Suckin' up to professors, talkin' about Chaucer in bars." He was still panting, and holding his sides. "What did you major in? Underwater basket weavin'?" Another wave of laughter hit him, doubling him over.

"Haha, laugh it up old man. I'm surprised you even know who Chaucer is." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll have you know I studied economics. I was always good with numbers in school." At this, Sniper tried his best at subduing his laughter.

"You're serious."

"Well, duh. That's what I've been tryin' to tell ya." Sniper instantly fell silent. This was not Scout in front of him. There was no way to imagine him sitting in a library cramming for a test, or using words with more than three syllables. There was no way this was the same Scout who bashed in people's brains with a grin on his face.

"Alroight. So you graduated with an economics degree?" Scout cringed and rubbed the back of his neck,

"I…sorta dropped out after a year." This elicited a cluck from Sniper.

"Oi knew there was more to this story."

"Hey, hey. Let me finish before you start gettin' judgmental. I didn't leave because I was failin' or anythin'." He paused and took another swig of his beer. "That girl wasn't the only reason I moved." He looked at his beer bottle, contemplating his next words.

"I wanted to get away from my family for a bit. I needed the break. I was so tired of livin' under my brothers' shadows all the time. I wanted to do somethin' that would make my ma proud of me. Somethin' that would make me stand out. So, I applied to the university and whaddya know, I got in.

"Things were so-so in the beginnin'. I aced my first semester and I met my buddy Keith, but me an' that girl split up. She said she found another guy who would 'satisfy her intellectual needs' but I think she just didn't know how to handle bein' with such a badass." Scout pretended not to notice Sniper shaking his head in disbelief and continued. "Then I enrolled in this philosophy class my second semester. Part of some bullshit liberal arts requirement. The first day the teacher tells us to answer the question, 'Why am I here?'"

"That's a pretty deep question for the first day."

"I know, right? Each week he keeps posin' this question as we're learnin' about Aristotle and Rousseau and other hoity-toity philosophers that made up shit as they went. And I listen to my classmates given these snobby answers like they just had a heart-ta-heart with God or somethin', and it gets me thinkin'. I enjoyed some parts of college like the parties and the ladies. But I wasn't totally happy, ya know? I felt like I didn't fit in.

"Then I get this phone call from my ma in the middle of the semester. She's tellin' me all about my brothers and what they've been up to. Like Danny's promotion at the factory and Tommy bein' arrested for a bar fight. She told me they missed me and hoped I'd come back during the break. And suddenly everything clicked. I realized this place was exactly what I said it would it be when I first moved: a break. It was a vacation from my life. But, it's not who I am. I didn't belong. I'm not like the other students. They're all such…pacifists. They're always protestin' against violence and talkin' about peace and love. Hell, even Keith would hold me back from sluggin' some shmuck in the face if I was pissed off enough. They'd never get it; how I solve my problems with a bloody fist. They don't understand how thrillin' it is ta be in a fight. Ta seek it out, ya know? That's just who I am. And only my brothers understood that." He finished off his warm beer with a grimace.

"I guess you guys understand that too, or you wouldn't have put up with me for so long." Scout chuckled lightly. Sniper remained quiet, trying to process everything he was told. Scout took this as a cue to continue. "I never finished up the semester. Didn't see any reason. My ma was disappointed I dropped out, though she never said so to my face. I could just tell from the look in her eyes. But like I said, I needed ta be doin' something that made _me_ happy."

"Seems like you got your head in the roight place," Sniper finally said. Scout simply nodded in silence. "So…why come back here?"

Scout cracked open another beer and chugged half the can. "We're on vacation, one of the greatest games of the season starts in a few hours and this is one helluva place to pre-game! Why _not_ come back here?" he hopped off the back of his car and started heading in the direction of the frat houses. "C'mon! Chi Phi makes some of the best buffalo wings this side of campus!"

Sniper took a second to close up the back of the station wagon and crush his joint under foot. Scout lead by a few paces, but he took his time catching up. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and stared at the back of Scout's head. That was quite a story. He couldn't help but be slightly envious of the youth. Barely in his twenties and Scout seemed to have life figured out. And here he was, older than he cared to admit and still needing to be persuaded to do things for himself. He knew where the faults lay; he just didn't want to accept them. _Perhaps it's time I do little soul searching,_ he thought. But now wasn't that time.

He had a game to enjoy.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! **__**If you couldn't tell, I'm a bit nostalgic for Tallahassee and the FSU lifestyle. **_Inspiration came from fapping-scout's picture set called Road Trip. You can find it on Tumblr. 


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